


Hornswaggle

by Osmosian



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osmosian/pseuds/Osmosian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did somebody say Space Pirates? <br/>Wait...did I hear Sexy Space Pirates? <br/>Ooooohh booooy! </p>
<p>Join nefarious space pirate Captain Rick Sanchez and his friendly cabin boy Morty. Will Captain Rick find treasure in the vastness of space, or will he be plundering a booty of a different kind? The booty of his heart!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hornswaggle

**Author's Note:**

> Morty has been aged up to the age of legality in whichever country you live in for this fic.

Whilst the exploration of space had certainly improved the conditions of a ship's underdeck - in comparison to the very,  _ very,  _ exceedingly few historic writings that Morty had read - the scent of rotting food was one Morty had had to become accustomed to during his few short months at ‘sea’. Still, perhaps the scuffling and muffled shouts above his head had heightened the scent to an almost unbearable level. Or perhaps it was simply a proximity matter.

That was how Rick met Morty; Morty, skin carrying the slightest hint of green, his short frame settled in a barrel, quivering fingers clutching at the moulded penicillin encrusted bread and an assortment of alien-looking fish: Rick, pale skin flecked with erythrocytes belonging to the corpses above, cesious hair tied into a short and careless ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“What the f-fuck is this --uurp-- shhit?” 

The voice, permeated with a burp, came from directly above the half crouched, half barreled form. Morty, the panic tasting vaguely of vomit in his throat, pulled the decomposing food closer to him, as if it would somehow protect him from the shadow of the other’s moving hand. 

Rick gripped at the former’s collar, heaving him out of the barrel. Thankfully, the boy’s lightened weight was more than light enough to be lifted by even Rick’s slight muscles. Tugging Morty from his sanctuary-like abode, Rick placed him on the rocking ship’s metallic floor, pressing the plasma pistol to the brunette’s temple.

“W-wow. R-real fucking macho tough...tough guy, huh? Hiding in the...uhh...hiding in the garbage. Bet the ladies are all...alllll over you, huh, bro?”

“Awh...awh Jeez. Jeez, I’m gonna die. Oh my God, I’m gonna die.” 

“D-Don’t shit yourself.”

Rick considered the male, chewing on the inside of his left cheek for a moment. 

“W-why are you here? You work with these clowns? Well…” Rick withdrew the pistol, twirling it via the trigger around his index finger. “Worked for them. They’re...they’re totally dead now.” 

“I’m uhh...I’m a cabin boy. I-I’m super new. Please don’t k-kill me. Oh, Jeez.”

Rick laughed, lifting the flask from it’s holster in his hip and taking a long swig of the liquid inside, before returning it to it’s resting place. 

“What an asshole. They always grovel.” 

“Well...uhh, I mean…” Morty licked his lips, knitting his brows together. The sting of the insult was still apparent, but he chose to ignore it. After all, the stranger had all of the power. Currently. He swallowed the lump in his throat, lifting his arms into a sign of surrender, before slowly rising to his feet. The other male didn’t seem to think that he was a threat at all, and rather looked at him as a form of amusement. That was perfect. If only he  could...Morty eyed the gun that was loosely gripped by the old man. 

“I mean...parlay.” 

“What?” Rick frowned, lifting a bushy eyebrow. “I don’t speak french, bro.” 

“Uh, parlay? Like...that thing you’re supposed to say to...p-pirates.” 

“Pirates?” There was a pause of silence before Rick laughed. “I’m a space pirate, motherfucker. Totally different...probably.” Rick shrugged, pushing the pistol into his loose-fitting belt. “Whatever. Fucking suffocate in space for all I care.” He turned, shoving his hands into his breeches. 

That was exactly what Morty needed- The upper hand. Rick caught the glint of yellow and silver too late, and Morty was pressed behind him, holding one knife- the knife that had made quick work of the thick leather belt which was now discarded in half around Rick’s ankles- pressed against Rick’s bony hips, the other grazing the skin at Rick’s neck. 

“Ohhh man, you got me.” A short laugh tumbled from Rick’s lips. Morty pressed the knife at his neck closer, drawing a thin line of carmine. 

“Sh...shut up, asshole!” 

Pirates, however, seem to have an unfortunate knack of timing, and two dropped into the bottom deck from the deck above. 

A bird-like alien quickly assessed the situation, aiming his pistol at the hand pushing the knife against Rick’s neck. With a short gasp as the hot light grazed Morty’s thumb, he dropped the knife, which clattered to the floor. 

“Hot,” Rick smirked, using Morty’s momentary distraction to grab the hand holding the knife at his hip, tugging and spinning himself around to face the other. Noting that his advantage was lost, Morty allowed his remaining knife to drop, a frown knitting together his brow, a bead of sweat beginning to form on his flesh.

“Awh, jeez…” 

“Captain Rick,” The bird person stepped forward, holding out a hat in Rick and Morty’s direction. Rick turned, pulling Morty’s back close against his front, his arm draped across his neck leisurely, leaning into the smaller frame. “Your hat. It was left above.” 

Rick grinned in the alien’s direction, before sliding his eyes to the pale Morty quivering in front of him. 

“I’m keeping this.” 

Morty’s badious eyes widened, chin lifting to enable him to look at the man behind him. Captain Rick. 


End file.
